


But Maybe

by five_ht



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/five_ht/pseuds/five_ht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not mpreg, Arthur just has some fantasies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> This is Aja's fault.

"Come on, god, why are you worried about foreplay right now?" Arthur says, tugging at Eames' hair where he's planting kisses down Arthur's belly with obvious intent.

Eames blinks at him, moving back up. "Tell me you're not objecting to having your cock sucked."

"That can wait," Arthur winds his legs round Eames' hips, "It's been two weeks," he says, grabbing the lube and pressing it pointedly into Eames' hand, and Eames catches on.

"It's good to see our time apart didn't change you," Eames grins, spilling lube over the sheets as he slicks his fingers, "It must have been dreadful, all empty without my cock to fill you up."

" _Fuck_ ," Arthur says, his cheeks lighting the moment Eames' fingers press inside him. "Oh god, fuck, I missed you."

"Should I be analyzing the fact that you never, ever tell me that until some part of me is in your arse?" Eames slides in a third finger, because Arthur is opening for him already, desperate for it.

"Missed your face, too, if that helps," Arthur breathes, clenching rhythmically in what Eames used to think was a practiced move but now knows is just unconscious greediness.

"Is that your way of asking me to eat you out?"

"Shut up, oh my god, just fuck me, I'm ready."

Arthur is as hot inside as ever, searing Eames' senses as he presses in, coaxed on by Arthur's legs locked around him, the whines breathed out against his ear.

Arthur's shivering by the time Eames' hips are flush against him, lips parted on a moan, his brows furrowed as if in concentration. "Come on, come on," he urges, shifting, " _Fuck_ me."

Eames starts to move, setting a satisfying pace; he doesn't have the heart nor the resolve to tease Arthur tonight, not when he's begging like this, squirming and whimpering and, fuck, two weeks really is too long.

"Feels -- you feel so good," Arthur stutters out, and Eames thrills at the words. It's not every night that Arthur allows himself to babble, but he does it so beautifully when he lets go.

"Yeah?" Eames says, planting himself on his elbows so he can lean close, "That's better than your fingers, isn't it?"

"You're never allowed to leave again," Arthur declares, shaky, "Can't -- ah, there, fuck -- you can't leave me like that again."

"It is a sad thing, a cockslut without his favourite cock," Eames agrees, grinding into Arthur at the angle that makes him jolt. "Do you want it hard tonight? Tell me what you want, Arthur."

"Fuck me," Arthur says, and that won't really do, but Eames lets it go while he watches the shocks course through Arthur's body, watches him ride the motions and push back for more until he's starting to sob.

"What do you want, gorgeous?"

"You -- just, just put it in me."

Eames huffs, leaning in and biting at the long, exposed line of his throat as Arthur throws his head back. "I think you'll find I already have."

Arthur shakes his head, his fingers tightening painfully on Eames' shoulders. "Just -- fuck, Eames, fuck -- knock me up."

Eames feels his rhythm falter, and he stares down at Arthur, but Arthur isn't watching him; he's writhing about, eyes shut, as if he hasn't just said something absolutely earth-shattering.

"Arthur--"

"Don't stop, don't stop, I want you to come, fill me up, put a baby in me--"

"Jesus christ," Eames gasps as his hips snap, brutal, completely out of his control. " _Arthur_."

"It'd feel so good," Arthur moans, "It'd be yours, your baby, inside me, _fuck_."

"Yeah," Eames says, finally able to pick up the thread, "I'll fill you up, sweetheart, you want me to knock you up?"

"Please, please," Arthur's hand slides down, but he doesn't touch himself, just splays his fingers over his belly, and fuck if that isn't the hottest thing Eames has seen in recent memory.

"You'd swell up so big, wouldn't you," he groans, and he can see it so vividly in his head, basic laws of science be damned. "Everyone would see, they'd all know."

" _Yes,_ " Arthur says, "That's -- yes, oh, fuck, oh--" his body coils tight as a spring, and Eames feels the wet on his stomach, Arthur gasping like even he didn't expect to come so soon.

Eames can't speak then, his voice strangled by the pleasure and Arthur's moans and the parade of images in his mind. It just takes one more plea, "Fill me up, Eames, _please_ ," to have him falling, hooking his arms under Arthur's legs to hold him open while he presses in deep, spilling inside him with a groan.

Eames doesn't know how long he lies there, still inside Arthur, struggling for breath and sanity, but his first fully-formed thought is, _Was that real?_

"Where's my totem?" he asks Arthur's shoulder.

"We're awake," Arthur says.

"We can't be," Eames insists, dragging himself up onto his elbows, "That was too perfect for reality."

Arthur rolls his eyes, just a bit, but the dimples betray him every time.

"Honestly, darling," Eames goes on, kissing his cheek, "I had no idea you were... into that."

"I didn't either," Arthur shrugs, wrinkling his nose, "Pregnancy sounds fucking terrifying."

"Doesn't it," Eames murmurs, letting his head drop back to Arthur's shoulder.

"I don't know," Arthur says softly, "I just like the thought of... of being claimed like that. You claiming me."

Eames presses his lips to Arthur's throat. "It's a great thought."

"Don't pull out yet," Arthur says, his voice lowered to a whisper, breathed into Eames' hair.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Eames says. He doesn't.


End file.
